


Perfect Gift for a Perfect Gentleman

by RainyMeadows



Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gap Filler, Pre-Canon, Romantic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:00:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28317144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainyMeadows/pseuds/RainyMeadows
Summary: While her darling is busy qualifying as a Professor, Claire finds the perfect gift to reflect the title he's worked so hard for.
Relationships: Claire/Hershel Layton
Comments: 6
Kudos: 13





	Perfect Gift for a Perfect Gentleman

“Unique New York.”

Hershel took a deep breath.

“Unique New York,” he repeated. “Unique New York.”

Claire shifted in her seat. She didn’t want to tell her boyfriend how uncomfortable she was making him. He was obviously anxious enough as it was, tapping his foot on the bus floor and gritting and ungritting his teeth between vocal exercises, and she didn’t want to make him any worse.

“Unique New York,” he said again.

“Darling,” said Claire, “you’ve been using that phrase for the past five minutes. Don’t you think perhaps you should try a different one?”

Hershel glanced sideways at her, his fingers fidgeting on the briefcase he clutched to his chest.

He faced forward and closed his eyes.

“How now brown cow,” he recited. “How now brown cow.”

Claire rubbed over the space between his shoulder blades. With how little time they had until the bus reached their stop, his building unease was more than understandable.

“The rain in Spain falls mainly on the plain,” he went on. “The rain in Spain falls mainly on the plain.”

His girlfriend shuffled closer to him and hugged their bodies together.

“I think you’ve warmed up your vocals enough, Hershel,” she said. “You don’t want to wear yourself out before your defence, do you?”

To her relief, Hershel took a deep breath. His grip on his briefcase lightened as he released it in a long sigh that finally ended his foot’s incessant tapping.

“I don’t blame you for being nervous,” Claire assured him, “but you don’t have anything to worry about.”

Hershel swallowed.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “What I hold in my hands will determine the rest of my life. Whether or not I earn my doctorate and the position I’m aiming for all depends on _this_ dissertation.” He tapped a finger on the briefcase. “I would think I have plenty to be nervous about.”

“I’m not saying you shouldn’t be worried!” Claire quickly replied. “You have every right to have butterflies in your stomach! But Hershel, you’re easily the smartest man I know, and with all the preparation you’ve poured into your defence, I’m positive that you’re going to _nail_ it!”

Hershel took another deep breath.

“You’re right,” he muttered. “I’ve been preparing for this day for months. I’m not about to let all that time go to waste.”

Before Claire had a chance to react, Hershel pulled her close and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Thank you, Claire,” he said. “I would never have made it this far had it not been for your support.”

Claire could only respond with a bashful smile. With how much her cheeks were burning, she knew she must have looked ridiculous, but couldn’t find it in herself to care.

Neither of them had a chance to say another word before the bus brakes squealed and brought the vehicle to a halt.

“Here we are.” Hershel stood up with one last sigh. “Wish me luck.”

“Good luck, sweetheart,” Claire responded with a smile. “I’ll see you back at home, okay?”

Hershel gave her a frightened, half-hearted attempt at a smile before he ran off the bus, clutching his briefcase to his chest.

Leaning against the window, Claire watched her boyfriend run down the road towards the university, one hand holding his briefcase and the other clutching his cap to his head.

Hmm, that cap…

It wasn’t quite befitting a professional, qualified archaeologist, was it?

She had been planning to continue riding the bus straight home after seeing Hershel off to his dissertation defence, but as she watched his retreating form disappear into the building, an entirely different and considerably better idea wandered into her mind.

He was going to be busy for the next few hours…

If Hershel Layton was going to be a professor, and if he ever wanted to look the part, it seemed that Claire had to take matters into her own hands.

She pulled her watch out of her pocket – a beautiful gift from her beautiful boyfriend – and checked the time.

9:51am.

Plenty of time remaining. Hershel’s defence would be done by 1pm at the latest and she wasn’t expected at the lab until 3:30 at the earliest. Even then, Dimitri was one of the most forgiving men she knew and he wouldn’t mind too much if she was a little late, especially on a day as important as this.

Although she didn’t quite know how to feel about that look in his eyes whenever she found herself gushing about Hershel…

Never mind. He was respectful and kept his distance, and so long as he didn’t try anything, working alongside him would be easy.

Bill, on the other hand…

Well, Bill had always kept his distance regardless, so he wasn’t really worth worrying much about. Besides which, all of them were scientists, so he’d understand her celebrating her boyfriend’s new qualification.

A plan was already formulating in her mind as the bus pulled away from the curb, and Claire smiled and pumped a fist in determination.

This was going to be _fantastic._

* * *

She continued down the street until she came upon a window display of nothing but hats. A stylish cloche, a well-kept slouch, a bowler and pork pie stood side by side above a comfy-looking beanie, all looking back at her in anticipation.

If nowhere else, _this_ was the place.

She stepped through the door, a little bell announcing her arrival, and her footsteps were soft on the hat shop’s carpeted floor. This was clearly a high-class establishment, so if she wanted to be respectful, it would be best to make as little noise as possible.

What was it about expensive shops for the likes of hats, shoes, even school uniforms, that warranted such silence? She honestly had no idea, and didn’t know if she wanted to torment herself with the impossible task of finding out why.

Her eyes wandered across the racks of hats that surrounded her, and as soon as she found herself lingering on one for more than a few seconds at a time, she tried her hardest to picture what it would look like on Hershel’s head.

Hmm, these bowler hats were rather nice…

She picked one up, gently cradling it in her fingertips, and turned it this way and that to see it from every angle. Good quality felt, seemed like it could last a long time if it were properly cared for, but was it the sort of thing Hershel would wear?

She tried to picture it. That little black dome sat atop his head…

No. Certainly not. She didn’t want her darling to look like a silent movie extra, Oscar-worthy though his looks may be. She set it back down on its stand and moved on to another rack.

He wouldn’t want something as casual as a beanie, although there was no doubt he would look utterly adorable if he wore one. The man was already soft and sweet as it was, so to have something like _that_ on his head would somehow make him look even more cuddly than his default state.

But no. Much as she wished she could persuade him to wear one, it wasn’t befitting of a man of a _professor’s_ status.

Which he was definitely going to achieve. This was Hershel she was talking about. Anxious as he was, the idea of him failing his presentation and not getting the position he’d been aiming for… it was just unthinkable.

And when he reached that goal, he deserved to look as spiffy as possible.

Like a proper English gentleman should.

Hmm…

Hm?

A flash of red in the corner of her eye drew her attention to another nearby rack, this one displaying top hats in a variety of heights, sizes and colours. No doubt they were intended for grooms and groomsmen to wear at weddings, but such stylish headwear didn’t deserve to only be worn once and then never again.

She gently approached the rack, feeling herself drawn towards the one that had first grabbed her gaze. A tall black stovepipe, its base displaying a brilliant red band.

Come to think of it, Hershel liked to wear that red vest, didn’t he? A band like that would match perfectly!

As she had before, she carefully lifted the hat from its stand and examined it. It was tall, very impressive, and held the potential to add a full foot to Hershel’s height if he were to wear it. Top hats were already spiffy enough in her opinion, but if he put this on, Claire had no doubt that he would look _very_ striking.

On top of all of that, it would be the perfect reminder to her darling that he was the very embodiment of what a gentleman should be. Kind, considerate, approachable, good-humoured, effortlessly handsome…

She smiled to herself.

This was _perfect._

She carried it to the checkout and requested it to be boxed up just in case Hershel came home early.

She couldn’t wait to see the look on his face.

* * *

She took a deep breath and tried to calm her nerves.

1:15pm. Surely he should be done by now. Why wasn’t he home yet? Why hadn’t he made any attempt to contact her?

The hat box was still sitting on the table where she’d positioned it upon arriving home. She was still looking forward to what his reaction to her gift could be, but if he had been waylaid into some fanciful lunch meeting, it was highly possible they wouldn’t get to see one-another before she had to leave for work. While Bill and Dimitri were patient people, she was going to have to leave at _some_ point!

If she couldn’t be by Hershel’s side to hear whether or not he had succeeded, she was never going to forgive herself.

But even if he’d failed to get the teaching job, she was sure he would love the hat and that it would look fantastic on him.

Nevertheless, Claire found herself pacing around their kitchen, casting furtive glances between the door, the floor and the nearby phone.

Please, Hershel. _Please_ make contact soon.

Her hand wandered into her pocket and she ran her fingers over the watch he had gifted her. The gorgeous timepiece he had bought for her seemingly the moment he found out what she and her co-workers were researching.

The way he’d blushed and smiled when she told him how much she loved it was so _precious_ that she’d had to restrain herself from diving across the table to hug him.

If she didn’t get to see that sweet little smile of his when he saw what she’d got for him, she didn’t know if she’d ever be able to live with herself.

Yes, it was admittedly a rather petty motivation, but there was nothing wrong with a little pettiness every now and again!

She paused in the midst of her pacing.

It wasn’t natural for a person as cool-headed as Claire Foley to be worrying about something as minor as seeing her boyfriend’s reaction to a gift she’d bought for him. Yes, it was rather expensive as hats went, but Hershel was typically rather calm and mellow, so he wasn’t going to burst into tears or anything, was he?

She frowned to herself.

Could it be that she was projecting this anxiety onto a smaller matter because she was, in truth, worried about how he was faring at his presentation?

It seemed to make sense. She wasn’t usually this unsettled. Her confidence and cool mind in the face of trouble was something she prided herself on. Even Dimitri had described her as ‘unflappable’ in the past, if she recalled correctly.

She ran her fingertips over the box. Bringing it home on the bus had earned her a few odd looks from other passengers, but it had absolutely been worth it.

And it would be even more worth it when Hershel came home and saw what was inside.

She swallowed.

It was fine, she told herself.

It would be fine.

He was _fine._

She was so deep in her thoughts that the trilling of the phone sent her leaping a foot into the air.

“AGH!”

Thank goodness nobody was home to hear her yelp of shock.

Her heart pounding, she ran to the phone and snatched up the receiver.

“Hello?!” she spluttered.

“Claire!” was Hershel’s shout from the other end of the line. “What’s wrong? What happened? Are you alright? You sound frightened!”

Claire blew out a heavy sigh of relief.

“I-I’m alright!” she reassured him. “I’ve been waiting for longer than you could have imagined, I-I’m just relieved to finally hear from you! I was beginning to get worried!”

“I’m sorry!” Hershel replied. “I’m so sorry to have worried you! I’ve only just managed to talk my way out of a lunch meeting and I’ll be catching the next bus home, I swear to you.”

He was alright. He’d just been distracted. Thank _goodness._

Claire took a deep breath. Her grip tightened on the receiver.

“How did it go?” she asked. “Hershel, how did your presentation go?”

She could have sworn the world had stopped spinning as she waited for the reply. The seconds felt as though they had been dragged out into hours. She could barely even feel the cold plastic pressed against the side of her head.

She recited a quick prayer in her mind.

“What did you say?”

Sudden puzzlement smacked her back into reality.

“Huh?” She frowned into the receiver. “What do you mean?”

“I could have sworn you just called me Hershel,” said Hershel. “That’s ‘Professor Layton’ to you, young lady.”

“YES!” She jumped again, punching the air in triumph. “I knew it! I knew you could do it! You’re _incredible,_ Hershel!”

“Somehow it doesn’t quite feel real yet,” Hershel responded, and she could hear the smile in his voice by now. “I’m going to be a teacher at Gressenheller University. I’m a fully qualified archaeologist. I’m a _professor._ ”

“You’ve earned it, Hershel!” Claire almost shouted into the phone. “After all your hard work, it’s exactly what you deserve! You did it! Darling, you did it! I’m so proud of you!”

“I wanted you to be the first to know,” Hershel told her. “I haven’t even told Clark and Brenda yet! I didn’t even wait to find a phone booth! I’m using the receptionist’s phone at the front admin desk!”

Claire tried her hardest to stifle her laughter.

“I understand your excitement, sweetheart!” she chuckled. “You come home as soon as possible, okay? You’d better believe we’re going to celebrate this! Dinner tonight, alright? As soon as I’m done with work. I’m paying. You can’t stop me.”

“Alright, alright!” She heard Hershel laughing on the other end.

“And it’s not just that!” Claire added, and she cast a glance over her shoulder at the table. “I’ve got something special waiting right here for you and I can’t wait for you to receive it!”

“Something special, you say?” Hershel laughed again. “Well then, I suppose I had better hurry home as soon as possible!”

“Yes, you absolutely should!” Claire replied. “I’ll see you when you get back, okay? Congratulations again!”

“Thank you, my love,” said Hershel. “I’ll be back soon!”

With that, he hung up.

Grinning from ear to ear, Claire rested the receiver down and punched the air in glee again.

He did it!

Her heart pounding, she cradled her arms, wishing Hershel was right here, right now, so that she could wrap him in the massive hug he deserved.

Her eyes fell upon the box again, and she somehow managed to smile even wider.

She couldn’t wait for him to come home.


End file.
